


Of Mortals and Gods

by d_aia



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fix-It, Humans are Awesome, M/M, POV Frigga, POV Outsider, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 09:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14746238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_aia/pseuds/d_aia
Summary: As soon as her people started pouring in Valhalla, Frigga wished she’d throttled Odin in sleep. She can’t leave now, she has to calm whoever needs it. But she bends over the palace walls and shouts in the direction of the fields, “Curse you, Odin!”*Frigga's thoughts on Ragnarok and Infinity War Part 1.





	Of Mortals and Gods

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt to fix Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 by continuing it. There were several things that I felt were odd and, in this story, I try to put everything together in a way that makes sense. I hope you enjoy!

As soon as her people started pouring in Valhalla, Frigga wished she’d throttled Odin in sleep. She can’t leave now, she has to calm whoever needs it. But she bends over the palace walls and shouts in the direction of the fields, “Curse you, Odin!”

It is pleasant that no one reacts to it anymore. The first day that Odin got here every single one trembled in place when the Queen climbed down the venerated steps of Valhalla to yell invectives at her esteemed husband. She imagined he thought he was safe by not dying in battle and thus Valhalla being beyond his reach, but Frigga had a lot to say so she went to him.

After all, it is no hardship to go down and visit the ones who are not allowed in the castle. It seems such an arbitrary standard, anyway, but Frigga has to admit it is still fair. The living outside of Valhalla is as good as inside. The architecture is all that is different.

That first time, when Frigga stressed how stupid—not foolhardy, not misplaced; _stupid—_ she found Odin’s plans, everyone looked on with wide eyes. Once they understood the enormity of what he had done, that his thirst for power was so great that he secured his throne with his daughter’s shadow to guarantee that no other can rule Asgard in his place, the tides changed. The fear she inspired in others and the harm she could cause once she was betrayed meant that he made sure Asgard would not exist once he died. That secured his fate. No longer was Frigga the hysterical woman or the crying mother or the hurt queen, she was vengeance personified. 

And when Frigga accused Odin of once again blaming it all on Loki, he responded, _“I did no such thing.”_ He was calm as a wall against a raging storm, but she would topple him. _“I even recognized him as my own.”_

The people started to whisper. That did not sound like a loving father. It did not sound like a responsible king.

Frigga’s fury was red, burning with the same deep-seated sense of injustice Loki must’ve felt over and over. _“Thor will blame him. You haven’t taught him any better and the one how can is the target of his ire. My children are fleeing, fighting, and they still can’t escape the shadow of the farce that you called wisdom.”_ She took a step closer. _“Unfortunately, Loki is yours. None of us can change the past.”_ Frigga lowered her voice. _“But if I could, I would protect Loki from you. Rip him out of your cold, dead hands, take Thor, and escape with_ my _people from your stupidity.”_

As one, the people bowed.

 _“So I curse you, Odin,”_ Frigga declared.

In the next blink, Odin was slammed into the ground. The force was enough to displace the ground and make a fountain of dirt to rain through the air. Frigga was unmoved. She said it again. And again. And once more, because he deserved it.

Frigga knew that it wasn’t the punishment that would affect Odin, painful though it was guaranteed to be, it was the joy on people’s faces when it happened and Odin’s humiliation that it did.

Still, Frigga is unmoved as she looks upon the gush of dirt in the distance. She nods and turns. “You fought bravely,” she says to a distraught guard. “Now rest.”

And that’s how time passes in Valhalla. It finally shows signs of stopping when she comes. Head held up, glaring green eyes, Hela steps into the hall like she owns it. But to Frigga, she looks alone. Maybe it’s the green eyes and black hair and smirk and the svelte figure and the anger towards the world and the way they faced disapproval and the sense of humor and the spells… By the fates, they have _many_ things in common!

Hela reminds Frigga of Loki. And Frigga knows that she made many mistakes. She will try her best to repair what she broke—with her sons and her people. However, she hasn’t made any with Hela. Frigga assumes that there is more to Hela than anger and destruction, and Frigga would like to find out what it is.

What is more, Hela has her own reparations to make and Frigga would be in good company.

“Good day,” Frigga greets. “I am the Queen of Asgard, Goddess of Marriage, and mother of Thor and Loki. If you’d like to visit your father, my husband, he’s down those steps.” She smiles cunningly. “Apparently, you can still spell people here if you have cause.”

Hela blinks and raises his eyebrows. A slow grin begins to unfold on her lips, mischievous to the very last inch. “How delightful!” She laughs a little. “I am Hela, Qu—” She stops, smiles, and bows. “Asgard’s Executioner and Goddess of Death.”

“Welcome, Hela.”

*

They come again. First the citizens— _there are so few left!_ Then Heimdall. He’s waiting for somebody; Frigga feels a shiver down her spine. And then her fears come true: Loki.

Frigga, nonetheless, raises to embrace him. “My son!”

“Mother,” Loki whispers in her hair.

“Left without tricks?” Fandral asks, half-mocking and half-fond as if he doesn’t know what to feel. 

Loki smiles and, without hesitation, lies, “No.”

“Little brother.” Hela laughs and opens her arms to him affectionately.

“Are we supposed to make merry now that we’ve departed?!” Loki asks, but he moves easily into her embrace.

Frigga overrides his rhetorical question by asking her own, “Do you have one more trick, Loki?” She looks at him as if he is precious because he is.

And everybody can now see it. Without the worries of life and the curtain of blame that Odin weaved around him, people are able to look and perceive the truth—a truth that no one’s perfect, but Loki isn’t as wicked as they thought. By the way Fandral chokes on a snort and a mumbled, _‘Of course,’_ a few of them were close to it even in life.

“One more,” Loki admits with a sheepish smile. “The odds are long indeed.”

“Somehow, though,” Heimdall says with a heavy voice, “the Fates seem to favor you with an escape path.” 

Loki smirks. He’s young and gleeful, old and tired, at the same time. “If you don’t mind my saying so, the time for them to do so is just about past.”

*

Frigga is trying to talk to Loki in order to begin making amends but Loki’s mind seems to be far away. He is absorbed in his glass of mead, though he hasn’t taken a drink in quite some time. When he winces, Frigga can’t take it anymore and she asks, “Is there something the matter?”

Loki quickly looks at her and spills his mead to the loud confusion of Hela, Fandral, Bors, and Hogun, who are seated around them. Ignoring them, Loki touches it with a finger, freezing it. Then, he whispers a spell and the ice turns into a screen. Few will recognize the Man of Iron, but no one has any such problems with Thanos.

“Who is Thanos’ opponent?” Bors asks. His expression is novel to Frigga. It looks like respect.

“He’s a mortal,” Loki answers dismissively.

Frigga narrows her eyes in time to see both Hela and Fandral do the same.

“He made Thanos bleed—that man is no regular mortal,” Hela comments.

Thanos jabs the spear into the Man of Iron’s gut. Loki snarls. The Man of Iron is carefully guided onto a rock with a gentleness that is jarring. Loki stops breathing. He bares his teeth when Thanos says, _“I hope you will be remembered.”_

Then the sorcerer levels the green stone of time against the Man of Iron’s continued survival. Thanos accepts it. He leaves and Loki shudders. The sorcerer’s explanation afterward proves Loki lied.

“We need a larger screen to find out how it ends,” Fandral says quietly. “Inevitable though it may be.”

Loki looks at her for a moment and, following her nod, he transforms the waterfall outside Valhalla into a huge screen. He does it naturally, as if it’s nothing, but Frigga knows better. A spell like that would have exhausted her. She sees Hela’s raised eyebrow and makes eye contact. Her little boy is impressive.

While the screen shows a scene from Midgard where Thor and his allies are fighting, Loki begins to speak, “His name is Anthony Edward Stark. He is a bright star among his fellow mortals, true, but that doesn’t make him other than who he is—a Midgardian.”

Thor stabs Thanos but Thanos’ hand is free to snap his fingers. Loki sighs deeply. And half the universe dies.

Destruction is ignored once the magnitude of the loss becomes clear. They see friends and strangers losing each other to ashes for a man’s plan and they are rendered speechless. Even to the boisterous people of Valhalla, this is a tragedy that must be met with silence. The scope is too broad for anything else.

*

Loki is reading and lounging in a chair, not sitting properly as is his custom, one screen playing constantly next to his elbow.

A little further away, Frigga and Hela are making weaving spells and counter-spells together. The person who doesn’t succeed for three consecutive turns to add either one or the other loses. It’s time-consuming, but rewarding as well.

Hogun and Fandral are regaling Bors with tales of his nephews.

There _is_ a hint of sadness in the air. A sense of terrifying awe in the face of indescribable events haunts them still. But there’s nothing they can do about it. While it affects them, they cannot help.

 _“My brother,”_ comes Thor’s voice from the screen, _“was brave to his last.”_

Loki rolls his eyes and continues to read.

 _“His last words to Thanos were meant to completely destabilize him,”_ Thor goes on, pausing only to take a drink. _“However, I do not know how; I rarely understand what is in Loki’s mind.”_

 _“Was,”_ Romanoff gently corrects and Thor drains his glass in answer.

Barton sighs. _“What did he say?”_

 _“He said, ‘You will never be a god.’”_ Thor’s voice cracks with grief, but Loki doesn’t give any signs that he heard it. _“After he introduced himself to Thanos as the God of Mischief.”_ He chuckles a little and, this time, Loki puts the book down to smile at his brother. 

Silence, interrupted only by the sound of glasses clinking, and Rogers takes his turn at reminiscing. _“Bucky was my best friend, but, for all that, in the last decade we’ve hardly been together.”_

 _“What?”_ Stark croaks quietly, but considering the fact that he hasn’t said anything since Thanos, everybody quiets.

Rogers turns to him with a hurt expression. _“What do you mean?”_

But Stark was addressing Thor and Thor dutifully repeats himself.

 _“Tony?”_ Rogers asks.

 _“Sorry,”_ Stark says. He gets up. Stark gestures to Rogers to continue, but it’s obvious that Stark has stopped listening and that is one of the rules.

Rogers frowns. _“What are you doing?”_

Stark simply shrugs. He grabs something, puts it in a containment field, and makes it explode. His behavior is absent, even when the others jump and demand explanations.

Loki sits upright.

On the screen, life has been infused in Stark’s tone. _“Loki,”_ he says and his voice fails him. But he is not deterred. _“Thor needs you. We need you.”_ Stark adds quietly, _“Come back to us, Loki.”_

And Loki cackles. “I accept.”

Frigga has but a moment to think with awe of the sheer brilliance that was Loki’s last trick. Of course, they were gods. Of course, they would hear prayers. Of course, nothing could stand in the way of gods answering prayers. But nobody thought to use it as a way to cheat death.

Then Loki is groaning, looking at a pink beam heading rapidly towards him.

“Kind of odd, that,” Fandral says and his lips twitch. “Does it sparkle?”

“Naturally.” Loki rolls his eyes. “I cannot do anything with gravitas anymore.” He sighs. _Sighs._ As if he hasn’t just done the impossible. “I will see you, later. Goodbye, mother.”

“Goodbye, my son,” Frigga hurries to say, embracing him quickly. “May the Fates be with you.”

With a smirk and a truly cheerful rose color, Loki is gone.

“I rather like that excuse,” Hela says dryly. “It’s not that we didn’t think of it.” Bors snorts and Hela looks at him. “It’s that we have too much gravitas for such a thing.” She gestures as if saying, ‘by all means.’

Frigga shakes her head but snickers. “It’s Loki, my dear. What did you expect?”

Slowly, as if they can’t believe themselves the people start smiling. Fond and affectionate, some even chuckle or laugh. They finally understand.

 _Loki is and will always be_ Loki.

*

Hela and Frigga create a larger screen so that everyone can see. On it, Loki appears among Thor and his shield brothers and sisters. Thankfully for Loki, it’s sans the pink beam.

 _“_ You _truly are the worst brother,”_ Loki tells Thor upon arriving. He pats Stark’s shoulder and offers Thor his extended arms in invitation. _“And, may I just say, you were wrong. I have not become_ predictable _.”_

Thor is frozen.

 _“Do I need to stab you?”_ Loki asks gleefully, summoning his dagger.

 _“Brother,”_ Thor whines like a wounded animal. He rushes to Loki and pulls him into a strong embrace. _“Why—Never mind,”_ Thor says and drags Loki even closer.

Loki exhales forcefully. It might have been an ‘oooff,’ in there. He’s being squished. Frigga exchanges glances with Hela—Loki’s right. He has bad luck in the gravitas department.

 _“What he means is,”_ Barton says in a biting tone, _“where were you?”_

Thor turns them around so he can glare at Barton so Loki’s left answering with his back towards Barton.

 _“Dead,”_ Loki says.

Romanoff’s lips purse. _“We know that. We were wondering how come you pretended to be dead when Thor nee—”_

 _“I wasn’t pretending,”_ Loki corrects and Thor turns to stone.

Thor pushes himself back. _“What?”_

 _“When Stark called, I was in Valhalla,”_ Loki explains. _“With our mother, sister, your shield brothers… Even our grandfather.”_ He perks up. _“Who, as it turns out, married a Jötunn so Odin is biracial.”_

 _“What?!”_ Thor asks. He is obviously confused. _“What about our father?”_

 _“Oh, he’s fine,”_ Loki answers. _“However, he did not die in battle.”_

Thor’s eyes are wide. _“So depending on how I die, I might never see parts of my family again?”_

 _“Those who are in Valhalla can visit any time. They can even live outside of Valhalla if they prefer it. Volstagg chose his wife and children to the halls and towers,”_ Loki expounds.

Thor blinks.

 _“In truth, I don’t think I’m supposed to talk about it.”_ Loki shrugs. _“However, no book has ever been written on the subject. It was a last resort. As a warning, though, it may have downsides.”_

 _“What are you on about?”_ Barton rubs at his face with a hand.  “ _No. I don’t care as long as you pay for the downsides.”_ He makes a cutting motion. _“So you’re dead?”_

 _“No,”_ Loki answers promptly.

 _“I am lost,”_ Rogers declares.

Loki sighs. _“I am a god. We”—_ he gestures to Thor and him _—“are gods. When we took the mantle a part of us became one with the Universe. We cannot die, not truly. Depending on rites, the power of the belief, and the god’s will, every god can be brought back to life as long as someone prays to them.”_

 _“I can simply pray for Sif?”_ Thor asks.

 _“No, Thor,”_ Loki answers gently. _“A god can only pray for another god in special circumstances. Then there are the rites that Sif demanded of her followers. The ones that you all found so amusing?”_

 _“Let me get this straight,”_ Rocket drawls _. “By trying making everybody do stupid shit for laughs, they shot themselves in the foot.”_

 _“Yes,”_ Loki replies, _“as is usually the custom.”_ He turns towards Thor. _“Also, Sif is not dead.”_

Thor’s expression is caught between sadness and happiness, and Frigga feels for him.

 _“What’s the plan?”_ Stark asks, cutting through the wave of explanations.

Loki smirks. _“I am glad you asked.”_

_*_

_“My thanks,”_ Loki tells Stark during a break.

Stark shrugs. _“Thor needed somebody.”_

Loki smirks and Stark avoids his eyes. When Loki doesn’t say anything to follow it up, Frigga has the impression that there is something more. The way Loki ducks his head to make sure Stark sees his expression and Stark responds with a smile—a feeble one, but it is something—tells her that she missed something.

 _“Is he there?”_ Stark asks. _“Or—Is that not how it works?”_

Loki takes a breath. _“He is in the pink stone. Half the sentient life in the universe is caught in it.”_

Stark’s face is a picture of surprise that quickly morphs into misery.

 _“You are the Avengers—you will avenge them,”_ Loki says quietly. _“And while the Avengers are doing that, no one says that you cannot have other wants and desires.”_

 _“I have to get Peter out of there,”_ Stark warns and Frigga agrees. He looks like the thought is all that is keeping him together.

_“Then you will do your best.”_

Shaking his head, Stark repeats, _“I have to, Loki.”_

_“Ask, then.”_

_“Loki, pl—”_

_“Don’t.”_ Loki moves well within touching distance. _“Don’t plead. Ask.”_

Stark swallows. _“Will you help us? Will you find Thanos? Will you stop Thanos? Will you help me get my s—Peter back?”_

 _“Yes,”_ Loki hisses.

_“Will you avenge yourself?”_

Loki smirks. _“I will.”_

_*_

In the end, Loki found Thanos as per Stark’s request, but Thanos is willy. Not even an increase in Loki’s power from Stark’s prayer could stop Thanos from teleporting on Midgard or finding the most populated city and the most populated spot in that city. The stones were objects of power and there is only so much Loki could do.

Frigga knows that one cannot win an argument with a believer, with someone that sacrificed for his conviction and worked for it countless years. It simply cannot be done. However, she also knows that this fight is unnecessary. Thanos can only control the population by repeated culling and to hope that he can hold on to as much power forever is a dream. The only way this does not end with a stupendous and futile loss of life is if Thor’s shield brothers and sisters win.

Hella can see it too. So can Bors and Odin. And every leader and warrior and scholar out there.

Thanos’ move has no strategic value or long-lasting effect.

So when Thanos is caught the general consensus is relief. No matter what the gods think of mortals and of Midgardians in particular, this time they are on the same side. But, at the same time, the power is clearly with Thor and Loki. Nebula lands some strikes, so do Rogers and Banner, but generally, the ones that do the hard work are still the gods. The power of the gods holds true, and after what happened with Asgard, it was something everybody needed.

On Midgard, after Loki lands a decisive strike with an ice spear he moves the frost to envelop Thanos’ arm. Thor comes in and brings lighting on the arm, making it shatter. And gauntlet falls.

But then Thanos panics. He has enough power on his own to step a bit to the right and pick it back up. Everybody tries to stop him, but most of them get in each other’s way. It happens when more fighters have just one stationary target. They have to come at him one by one, thus giving a chance to Thanos.

Immediately, Thor, Loki, Banner, Nebula and, Rogers are singled out and have a path cleared for them. They work together well and seem to learn from previous mistakes. Where Nebula sliced at Thanos and was blocked, this time she times her slice with Banner’s attack. Rogers and Thor are more used to it, but Thor is also used to fight alongside his brother, so he hesitates when it comes to making the switch between the two. That does not happen the second time. Thor’s transition is smooth and combined with Nebula’s slice, Thanos is brought to his knees.

What everyone seems to have discounted, though, is Stark. They thought him traumatized, which he was, and they thought him broken, which he also was. But that does not seem to stop Stark. He appears not to know when he has lost and simply continues on. The mad part is that he… wins.

The gauntlet is on Stark’s arm and nothing imploded.

Frigga feels her shock, but Bors inhaled breath says more than she could. Praise from her sounds fulfilling, she knows it can be both motherly and queenly. However, when one who is prejudiced against Midgardians _changes_ his mind and offers Stark Bors’ respect, that is incredible.

And Stark is beyond the gods’ wildest dreams.

When the writhing pile remembers what they are fighting for, they turn as one to Stark. Loki, who is exceedingly unsurprised, smirks and pins Thanos to the ground with ice spears. It is not enough, but Loki can clearly keep it up. The others, though, are so surprised that they falter leaving Thanos to shoot a spell into the ground. They are flattened. Loki and Thor remain to hold Thanos alone.

Stark snaps his fingers. And he’s not Thanos, but it the gauntlet obeys him nonetheless. People start to become visible. They start with shades and they color back to life. But because Stark is not Thanos, his entire body flares orange as if he is slowly burning from the inside out.

It becomes obvious to everyone that Stark means to sacrifice his life.

 _“Touch him!”_ Loki shouts.

To whom? Thor and Loki are caught fighting with Thanos and nobody else is able to stand. Stark is doomed.

That is when it happens. Horrified, small, mortal Midgardians appear from wherever they hid and start running towards Stark. They stand hand to shoulder—until a touch turns into ten.

Into a hundred. Into a thousand. Into a hundred thousand.

They hold.

Nothing but pawns in the games of the worlds. Frail and weak and frightened. Self-absorbed, arrogant, and ignorant.

They rise to a standard that every other people will be held to. It does not matter that they usually do not. That they are referred across the universe as a backwater planet. Because in this moment, when it made a difference, they hold. And they are strong, and they are beautiful for it.

In the end, the people are brought back to life. Thanos is imprisoned in his nightmare. Stark is alive.

The relationship between gods and mortals?

It will never be the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you want to comment (or just talk to me) you can do it here or on my [tumblr](http://e-alexandrescu.tumblr.com/).


End file.
